Drabble Miniseries
by LotornoMiko
Summary: A series of drabble one shots during Lenneth's captivity with Lezard. Doesn't have anything to do with any of my fics, something to work on for fun or when boredom strikes.
1. Untitled

Don't own the characters of Lezard and Lenneth. Wish I did though! That honor belongs to Square Enix.

----Michelle

At first Lezard thought he had imagined her presence, the white of her dress appearing out of the corner of his eye. He had looked up briefly, finding the doorway to his library empty. Lifting his hand to his eyes, he pushed aside his glasses, rubbing at his tired eyes. Perhaps he had done enough reading for the night, his eyes surely feeling the strain. He pushed back his chair, the wooden legs scraping across the floor, and it was as though the sound attracted her to him.

Her bare feet made no sound on the floor, allowing her to pad silently into the room. Her movements were graceful now, wherein just a scant few hours earlier they had been clumsy, awkward, the Valkyrie having to learn how to control her all too human body.

"Lenneth..." Lezard said, unable to keep the pleasure out of his voice. It truly surprised him to see her up and about, after all it was the first time Lenneth had ventured from her room since Lezard had brought her into his home.

Her gaze drifted towards him, an all too brief glimpse of pure blue, before she was turning away, face expressionless. She hid her disappointment well, turning to leave the room.

"Wait! Don't go!" Lezard cried out, a hand held towards her imploringly. He saw her pause at his urgent request, dare he hope it was an acknowledgment of his presence? She had been sullen earlier, refusing to speak to him, wouldn't even look at him. But now she stopped, and although she did not turn to face him, she stayed, silent like a ghost, waiting for him to speak.

Lezard felt panic rising as he realized he did not know what to say to her. What do you talk to a Goddess about? He had already spoken to her of his deep and endless love, of his desire for her. He had even tried impressing her with his technical prowess, realizing all too late he shouldn't be boasting about his accomplishments of trapping her in a cage of mortal flesh. She wasn't ready to be dazzled by the lengths he would go to for her, he could see that when she began shaking with suppressed rage, pain reflected deep in her beautiful eyes.

It had to be something simple...something to break the ice, that would not cause her undue stress. What was something they had in common, something everyone could agree to. He glanced about the room, desperate for a topic, and at last settled in on the half eaten apple that lay next to an open book. His purple eyes lit up, and he smiled. Why yes...food...hunger was a common goal, something all humans shared. "Are you hungry?"

Lenneth shook her head no, making the necromancer worry for she had not shown any interest in food or drink since awakening as a human. He would absolutely hate having to force her to eat something, it would not do for the Valkyrie to make herself sick from lack of nourishment. He didn't have time to follow this line of thought, his attention drawn to her pouty pink lips, her mouth working open and close as she tried to give voice to some notion. Except for one anguished scream, he hadn't heard her speak, and he longed to hear her dulcet tones once again.

Licking her lips nervously, her mouth formed the words. "I want to go home." Her voice was soft and unsure, her homunculus throat not used to speaking. She repeated the sentence, voice stronger this time, more sure.

_Why this?!_ Lezard wondered, wishing he could close his ears to her pleas.

"Please...?" Lenneth added, as if that word could make all the difference in the world.

How to tell her he couldn't do that, wouldn't do it, even if he was capable of rendering a mortal into a God. "I'm sorry no..." He shook his head to emphasize his point. Her eyes became crestfallen, and she stepped back, intent on fleeing the room. His hand caught at her arm, holding her in place. Lezard could feel Lenneth stiffening in displeasure at his touch, and that alone kept him from pulling her to him. "But ask of me anything else...within reason..." He was quick to add, knowing she could very well ask him to kill himself. "And I'll try to grant it."

Lenneth was quiet, her eyes fixated on the hand that was touching her. She made no move to escape him, merely contemplating his words. At last she spoke. and it was a question. "Are there no windows in your tower?" Lezard's eyes widened in surprise. "I want...I want to see the sky..."

A brilliant smile crossed his face, relief in his amethyst eyes as he realized this was a request he could grant. "Your wish is my command." Lenneth let out a startled cry as he gave in to the temptation to crush her to his body, his arms winding around her waist. He breathed in deeply of her hair, inhaling her sweet scent, even as her hands came up to push against his chest. "Hang on tightly..." He advised, and began casting the ancient magic of teleportation.

Blue lights circled around them, the Valkyrie's eyes widening as she recognized the magic from an earlier confrontation with the wizard. With a ringing sound, they made the jump, transported from dusty library to the dew soaked cobblestones of the tower's roof. Lenneth's lips parted in an appreciative cry, bending her neck backwards to stare up at the midnight blue sky. The moon hung heavy and high, shining it's white light down on them. Lenneth's nostrils flared as she breathed in deeply of the night air, getting a taste of the freedom that so eluded her.

Cautiously, Lezard released her, nerves on edge to catch her should she try to run. She didn't, merely spinning in place, arms held out wide apart, hair and dress being tugged by the wind. "What are you thinking Lenneth?" He asked her, as her eyes closed, the Valkyrie letting out a deep sigh. She didn't answer him, not in the way he expected. "Thank you." It was said simply, the Valkyrie stopping her spin, to look him squarely in the eyes.

"Your welcome..." Lezard answered, glad he was able to please her, even in such a small way.


	2. Hunger

She wasn't eating again.

It was a pattern Lezard was growing all too familiar with. The Valkyrie had little if any appetite at the best of times, seeming to view the task of eating as though it was a horrendous chore. He tried mixing things up, bringing her a variety of food and drink, from simple everyday fare to gourmet repasts, but Lenneth just picked at her meals, more often pushing the food around her plate than swallowing any of it.

Lezard often wondered if she was doing it to spite him, but he was more worried than angry, especially when faced with the signs of her starvation. The woman's pale skin grew whiter yet, her slender form losing weight bit by bit, her movements slow and lethargic. She'd often go for days without eating, deigning only to allow fresh spring water to pass by her lips. Now she was refusing to drink as well, not surprisingly ended up confined to bed, either too weak or too uninterested to move.

It had occurred to him that this was one way Lenneth sought to escape him. To slip his grasp and return to the home she oft lamented about. Through death if need be. He shuddered, the force of his trembles shaking the tray he held, causing the soup to spill over the sides of it's bowl. He tightened his grip on the tray till his knuckles whitened, steadying his resolve. He would not allow her to do this, she simply had to eat, one way or another.

"Lenneth?" He called out softly, easing the door to her room open with the side of his hip. "I've brought you something...some sweet pea soup."

"..." She was silent as she stirred, lifting her head up from it's pillow to stare at him. Her blue eyes unnerved him, her accusatory gaze boring into his soul. She was a difficult captive, not one to be swayed by gifts of silk finery and jewels, her warrior spirit stubborn and proud.

Lezard walked towards the bed, the smell of the warm broth filling the room. Lenneth's eyes tracked his progress, and he was heartened by her interest. Upon reaching the bed, he set the tray down on the nightstand next to it, settling his weight on the corner of the mattress. "I thought something to quench both your thirst and hunger might be appropriate." He was lifting up a silver spoon, scooping up a mouthful of the soup. One hand underneath it, to catch any of the liquid before it hit the sheets. He got as far as bringing it to her lips, before she let out an angry "Hmph!" and was turning her face away.

Her sudden spin caused him to spill the precious liquid onto his lap, and he stared at her frustrated. "Why must you be so difficult?" Lezard said at last. "I seek only to care for you..." Her answer was to roll onto her side, showing him her back. Lezard's lips pursed in displeasure, an almost helpless look in his eyes as he stared at her. "It's good..." He tasted the soup. "I made it myself...nothing but the best for my love..."

They sat like this for some time, the necromancer staring at her, while she lay content to gaze at the wall. Perhaps she should have paid closer attention to Lezard, for then she would have seen the twisting of his lips, the hard resolve in his eyes as a rather unique idea occurred to him. Lenneth heard the clatter of the spoon being set down, heard the bed groan as he moved nearer, his hands stroking down her back. The Valkyrie stifled a shiver at his touch, surprised to find him grasping at her waist. She wasn't sure what heinous act she expected him to attempt, but it certainly wasn't scooping her up into his arms!

Firmly pulling her into his lap, he cradled her as though she was a child, holding her against his chest. One hand was touching her chin, a gentle grip that tilted her head upwards towards his. She saw a flash of purple before he descended upon her, mouth touching hers. She went to let out an indignant gasp, and almost choked as warm liquid spilled into her mouth. Lezard kept his lips pressed firmly against her, keeping her from being able to spit out the mouthful of soup, and she squirmed in his arms, lashing out with her hands. But he held fast against her, till she was forced to swallow.

He didn't break the kiss right away, unable to resist sliding his tongue into her mouth. He sighed against her lips, tongue licking across hers, a kiss that was hardly chaste. When at last he pulled away from her, Lenneth found herself breathless, wide eyed and staring at him.

"Now..." Lezard leaned forward, carefully spooning up some more of the soup. "Are you going to eat on your own...?" He was pressing the spoon against her lips, the scent teasing her nostrils. The brief taste she had, combined with the smell was reminding her of just how hungry she truly was. It was growing increasingly hard for the Valkyrie to resist his offer of food.

"Or..." Lenneth was aware of him smiling, a mischievous look to his eyes. "Or do I have to kiss you again?" If possible, her eyes widened further. What choice did she have, but to open her mouth to him?

Satisfied, Lezard continued to hold Lenneth in his arms, feeding her spoonful after spoonful. He was quite certain there wouldn't be any more starvation diets in her future.


	3. Nightmare

She often woke up screaming.

It became a familiar sound in his tower, the monstrous beasts that haunted the lower levels of his home, raising their voices in howls that acknowledged the Valkyrie's fear and pain. It made them restless, made them hunger to be near the source of that anguish, yearn to be the cause of her terror. One could not sleep with such a racket going on, not that Lezard attempted to, once he realized it was Lenneth who cried out.

He always made a point to fly to her side, his bare feet slapping against the floor as he burst into her room, clad in nightshirt and soft cotton pants. That first night, he was taken aback to see her still in bed, eyes closed, but thrashing about wildly, her mouth open to let out her screams. He was immediately by her side, taking her in his arms, gently shaking her awake. Her eyes would fly open, the blue of them almost lost to the dilated pupils, and he nearly fell off the bed when she flung herself into his arms, body shaking badly. It was then, and only then that she allowed Lezard to hold her without complaint, the Valkyrie clinging to him in her need.

Was it terrible of him to come to enjoy these quiet moments, to come to want her nightmares, to come to welcome her screams? It meant so little to her, but everything to him to be able to hold her like this, Lenneth willing and almost desperately needy. Even as he felt a flash of guilt, listening to her shuddery breaths as her voice fell silent, he couldn't keep the pleasure he felt from holding her to quell up deep inside of him. It was during these moments that he sought to take advantage of her, in small simple ways, such as the caressing of her back, his fingers finding their way into her unbound hair, or his lips brushing upon her lobe as he whispered soothing words into her ear.

Lenneth didn't seem to mind, too far gone to care. She'd often allow him to lay down next to her, snuggled safely in his arms, eyes fluttering close as he stroked her hair. Of course it was a different matter upon waking up in the morning. She had nearly killed him that first sunrise, attacking him with a fury that would do a harpy proud. It was only his magic, and her weak human body that kept her from doing permanent harm to the wizard.

Lezard often tried to talk to her about the nightmares, to try to get to the bottom of them. Lenneth refused to elaborate, and when pressed, she simply whispered, "I'm living it."


	4. Stalemate

This is Nichole's (Iamfiction) fault! ;-p Okay, only partly her fault...there's a pic to blame too...but she kicked it off with the words broken control.

---Michelle

There had been screams when he had grabbed her. Both their mouths had opened to cry out, Lezard's voice adding a guttural moan to Lenneth's outraged cry. Other sounds soon followed, the rustle of silk petticoats, the clatter of books on the floor, the crunch of glass underneath his booted foot. Paper crinkled as he forced her down on top of the desk, the thrashing of her body knocking over an inkwell, the blue liquid spilling out to stain his precious notes. And he just didn't even care!

None of it mattered except the feel of her body under his, soft and supple against his hardness. He wondered if she knew the effect her struggles had on him, how it felt to have the Valkyrie squirming underneath him. Her eyes widened in shocked fear, and she suddenly froze, still as a statue. _Yes._ He thought to himself. He rather imagined Lenneth did know what effect she was having on him.

He let out a sigh, the sound a mixture of pleasure and frustration. Lezard wasn't surprised he had grabbed her, that it had come to this. His control was shaky at the best of times, made even worse when drinking. It had been weeks of reigning in his libido, exerting iron clad control around her at all times. Chinks in his armor had appeared when she allowed him to hold her at night, didn't protest his fingers in her hair, allowed the gentlest of caresses. Now he tired of chaste touches, and longing glances, and damn if he didn't overreact when she had touched his arm, absent minded though the gesture had been.

_ Fool! Fool!_ Lezard chided in his mind, even as he leaned in to inhale her sweet scent. Was it his imagination, or could he smell terror radiating off of her? Was he a terrible person for finding her fear to be an aphrodisiac? _I am so weak._ He thought, hating his folly, this weakness of the flesh. Even as he cursed himself, he was lowering his head to her neck, breathing in deeply, hesitating only for a moment before he placed his lips against the pulse point of her neck. It beat against his tongue, fast and furious, and he sucked to it's tempo, marking her as his own.

Lenneth's voice was rising in fear and disgust at his actions, and once again she began to move. Her hands reaching for him, pushing him up and away from her. He didn't move far, straining against her hands, one digging almost painfully into his neck, the other grasping at his shoulder. Her blue eyes were open wide, Lezard imagined he could see himself mirrored in them, tiny reflections of himself pressing down on her.

This, like so much of his life with Lenneth, was a constant battle. Even now, they were locked together, neither one willing to budge. _This is wrong!_ Lezard thought to himself. _ So wrong._ And yet he found himself growing more excited by the minute. He had to convince himself that her hands were strong enough to hold him off, that the anger and distrust she would show him wasn't worth the carnal satisfaction he could find in this instant, should he press the issue. And yet...he continued to stare down helplessly at her, both unwilling to move off of her, and unable to take the next step towards claiming her. It was, in effect, a stalemate.


	5. Untitled 2

Things would be so much simpler if she said yes.

How long had they stayed like this, frozen in time, staring into each other's eyes? It should have been romantic, the blue of the sky locked in on amethyst jewels. But there was storm clouds in her eyes, lightning hot anger amidst the fear. Lenneth knew as well as Lezard did, that her attempts to hold him at bay were feeble at best. He could feel the tremor in her hands, a faint thing, but it was there, the Valkyrie feeling the strain of holding his much larger frame off her.

Lezard felt a delicious thrill as he pressed against her palms, felt her fingers dig deeper into his windpipe. Her struggles made her all the more beautiful, Lenneth's unbound hair spreading out around her in a sheet of silver blue. His hands were touching that hair, sinking down into it, palms placed firmly on the sides of each shoulder. He wasn't touching her, not yet, but OH! How he wanted to!

"Lenneth..." How embarrassing. He couldn't even say her name without groaning! Was this what it came to, her nearness rendering him into a mere animal, slavering for any scrap of affection?! His tongue fell silent again, and he pushed down even harder against her hands, feeling them move back. If only she would say yes! Then there'd be no need for guilty remorse, no bitterness between them, no anger on her part. It didn't even have to be a verbal acknowledgment, why he'd accept a softening of her eyes, or the relaxation of her hands.

Lezard wanted to kiss her. He could die a happy man if his Goddess would only let him kiss her! His lips burned with the memory of her warmth, how delicious the skin of her throat had felt to his mouth. He moaned out loud, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. "Lenneth..." He tried again. "Just say yes..."

"No!" She didn't speak to him often, and Lezard ate up her words, even the ones that weren't to his liking. "Yes..." He whispered silkily, his hands coming up to grasp her wrists. Lenneth frantically shook her head no, over and over again. His fingers were encircling her thin wrists, pulling her hands away, his sore throat being able to breathe all the better for it.

Lenneth let out a wordless cry as he bent back her arms, pinning them to the table. "Please Lenneth..." He was lowering himself to her, wanting to lay atop her body, to feel her breasts pressed against his chest. Her breathing changed, quick short puffs of air that spoke of her panic. Even as he railed curses at himself for being the cause of her distress, he continued. Transferring her wrists to a one handed grip, wanting, no needing another hand free. The back of his right hand found the curve of her cheek, the mage trying to soothe her with a neutral touch.

Lezard smoothed his hand down, turning it over to finger her lips. Her mouth snapped at his fingertips, flashes of pearl white teeth as she sought to injure him. He didn't care, lowering his face to hers, wanting to claim that kiss even if it meant the spilling of his blood. But it was not meant to be, the Valkyrie turning her head to the side with a disgusted cry.

Everything he did disgusted her. Why couldn't he please her, even in some small way?! His smile was sad as he gazed down at her, and his hand slid down to her neck, a lazy caress that continued downwards past her collarbone. His hand continued to travel, wedged between their bodies, fingers finding the top of her bodice, satin sensations against his skin. He very much wanted to rip the material away from her body, reveal those magnificent breasts of hers. Even as he yearned for the feel of them, he held back.

His breath grew ragged as he fought with his inner demons. He didn't like to, didn't want to think of himself as the type of man to force himself on a woman. And yet he was helpless in the face of his own desires. He had risked eternal damnation to bring her to him, what was one more sin to worship at her altar?! But somehow the thought of her hating him, bothered him more than anything the pits of Hel could throw at him.

His hand was starting to shake, a sign of his inner struggle. He flexed his fingers, bending at the knuckles, sliding them in underneath her top. His arm tensed, and he heard Lenneth's shocked cry as he ripped open the expensive material. All the while he was waging battle with his inner self, reasoning he just wanted to see them, nothing more. But at the sight of her breasts, perfect and round, he couldn't stop himself from falling on her like a famished man.

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Wonders if anyone is reading this...

Hmmm, the conclusion to the stalemate mini series is actually two parts, and drives the series up to an M rating. Just a small warning. Inevitable actually depressed me by the time I was done writing it.

----Michelle


	6. Inevitable

This was a train wreck...AHH!! I should stay away from lemons...Yes, this is not work safe...and kinda sad...or a lot...Hell, the last line depressed me! I definately need to work on something happier for these two. This is just one version of how this mad interlude plays out. The C ending if you will...Not my best writing either...gets easily embarrassed by my attempts at lemons.

----Michelle

The Valkyrie meant everything to him. She was his eternal beloved, his Goddess, the one good thing he clung to in this wretched existence he called life. She was shining and beautiful, wholesome and clean. She could reduce him to a cowering mess with her words, and lift him up to new heights of pleasure with just a smile. She was balance, equaling both parts of a whole, making him strive to be a better person, to redeem himself even as he sinned against her again and again.

It was a cruel trick of the Gods, locking his redemption and damnation in one single, slender form. Tempting him with porcelain skin, and pouty pink lips. Her beauty was undeniable, as was his love for her. But at the moment something darker colored his love, his devotion twisting, becoming horrid and vile. It gathered in strength as he descended upon her flesh, growing larger and more immense. It wanted to cloud his mind, drive all reason away, reduce him to nothing more than actions and feelings.

For now he let it win, let his dark desire run free upon her skin, much as his hand and mouth were doing. His lips were on her breast, short reverent kisses that had Lenneth straining against his steel grip, desperate to get her hands free. Lezard squeezed down harder, trying to get her to stop, knowing her pale wrists would be bruised by tomorrow morning. He promised he'd make it up to her later. Somehow, someway Lezard would find the means to make this all okay. But for one brief moment, he wanted to indulge himself, free of guilt and of thought.

His free hand was on her, touching her left breast. His shaking hand grew confident, and his fingers grasped her round flesh, giving her a light squeeze. Lezard felt Lenneth try to jerk away, and he watched fascinated as her breasts bounced. Again he was touching her, that light squeezing touch, watching in delight as she tried to wiggle free of his grip. He pressed his palm down on her breast, curving his hand around her. She was the perfect weight in his hands, large enough that he couldn't hold all of her at once. But by the Gods, he wanted to make that effort!

Lezard was lowering his face to her breast again, staring at her nipples. The color and the texture, everything was perfect! They were small, just starting to bud, more to do with fear than any enjoyment Lenneth was feeling. He was determined to change that, and he stroked his finger down the center of that hardening nub. He danced circles upon her skin, teasing her. She stiffened under his hands, and he rewarded her with a kiss. Opening his mouth wide to claim that nipple, touching his tongue to the tip of it.

"Stop!" Lenneth, her voice begging him sweetly. This wasn't right, she should have been asking him to continue. She had in his fantasies, fallen into his arms willing and ready. But here she was, and the reality had her telling him no over and over again. Reality be damned, he thought, beginning to lightly suck down on her. The taste of her was exquisite, his eyes falling close as he enjoyed the feel of her in his mouth.

There was constant movement, both from her and from him. He didn't neglect her other breast, letting his hand play along the skin, fingers teasing and pinching her nipple. Lenneth was still talking to him, but her voice faded away to the back of his mind, only the tone mattered. At times she was commanding, angry that her orders went unheeded. Other times she sounded near tears, and it pained him to hear her reduced to that. But he didn't stop, even as another voice joined hers. It was in fact his voice, low and breaking with emotion. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He realized he was murmuring the phrase over and over into her chest, his mouth leaving a wet ring around her nipple.

Pathetic. He was lower than dirt, violating her in one breath, while begging for forgiveness in the other. Lezard had always thought of himself as strong, now he knew himself to be the weakest of the weak. He was overcome with emotions, surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks. He raised his fingers to his face, coming away with tears. Lezard was unsurprised to see Lenneth mirrored him in this regard, the two in perfect synch for once.

Perhaps he could have stopped himself in that instant. He should have stopped! Why didn't he?! He fought with himself, oh how he fought! Lezard was sure the battle played out on his face, the emotions running the gamut from desire, to compassion and guilt. But ultimately lust won out, and he was lowering his mouth to her chest once more. His drying tears mingled with the taste of her, adding salt to tantalize his tongue. Was it his imagination, or was Lenneth arching into his mouth? Such thoughts emboldened him, encouraged him to continue his pleasurable assault.

A low whine of pleasure came from Lenneth, the Valkyrie biting down on her lower lip, clearly ashamed. "No don't do that." Lezard begged her. Was he asking her to stop her voice, or to let it ring out? Either option only added to his excitement, making his actions more frenzied. He couldn't stay by her chest forever, and yet he feared what he would do should he try to move on.

"AHHH!!" Lenneth again, louder this time. She wiggled and squirmed underneath him. If she would just stop that delightful movement of hers, maybe he could think clearly! Even stop! But it was too hard to concentrate with her body rubbing against his. He was freeing her wrists, hands dropping down to her skirts. Her legs were lost in a sea of silk, voluminous swaths of material that impeded his quest.

Lenneth's hands were in his hair, rough and pulling, trying to draw his attention away from his current task. Lezard ignored her attempts at distraction, biting back a cry as her nails scratched in his scalp. Slowly but surely his hands found their way to her thighs, Lezard shivering in delight as his hands traveled upwards. His fingers were brushing against the cotton of her panties, hesitating. He knew he was fighting a losing battle. His fingers were sliding under the waistband, insistent and demanding. A losing battle? Wait, that was wrong...there was no battle...he had already given up. He had simply come too far to stop now.

"This is destiny..." Lezard muttered, yanking down her panties in one swift movement. He bit back an unhappy chuckle. Destiny, how cliche. Lezard had always scoffed at the idea of inevitability. He believed nothing was set in stone, that mankind made their own fate the Gods be damned. And yet, now in this moment, he felt a flicker of doubt. Was there such a thing as fate, of set destiny? Was this act preordained, this outcome unavoidable from the moment Lenneth had first set foot in his tower?

Lezard gave a toss of his head, taking hold of her hands only long enough to draw back from them. He was avoiding her eyes again, his hands fumbling with his belt. His eagerness made him clumsy, Lezard cursing up a storm as he tried to do undo his belt. At last the clasp came undone, and he slid it free of it's loop. He had an easier time with the laces of his breeches, snapping the string apart easily enough. He wasn't even bothering to disrobe fully, just opening his pants enough that he was revealed to her.

Grasping her legs, he pulled her closer to the edge of the table. His breath was growing ragged, his glasses fogging up as he positioned himself at her entrance. It was then that he looked up at her, rubbing along the creased folds of her center. _Ah bliss!_ He let out a moan at the feel of her, teasing himself by not thrusting in. Lenneth made a sound, a strangled gasp in her throat, drawing his attention to her face. There was a slight flush to her cheeks, her blue eyes narrowed in a glare, even as she cried. Silent tears that dripped wetly down her face, speaking volumes of her distress.

Lezard was almost lost to the feel of her, still hesitating just before his goal. There was a voice whispering in his ear, telling him it was not too late, that he could still stop this. He rudely shoved that voice to the back of his mind, forming a prison of concrete walls around it's protests. It was too late to stop, he knew that he had already lost her trust by coming this far. He could have something else in it's place, something wonderful but fleeting. Sex in place of trust...hardly an equal exchange. It just wasn't fair!

_ Everything I've worked for is lost._ Lezard thought dully. With a cry born of pleasure and pain, he thrust into her, shattering any hopes he had ever had of obtaining her love.


	7. Untitled 3

Ah...how I struggled with this one. I take back what I said about Inevitable...this one is the true example of being not my best writing attempt. Disregarding the endings, I think Inevitable is the better piece in terms of writing.

Lemon scented for a little light molestation. Could use a name too...sweat drop.

----Michelle

He was lost to the creamy whiteness of her breasts. Their pale perfection beckoning him closer, causing him to fall on her in a flurry of motion. His mouth and tongue on her, nibbling and licking at her tender flesh. His mouth trailing kisses, tongue sliding wetly across a dusky nipple. His hands were also busy, one fist tightening around her wrists, keeping her arms trapped up above her head. The other was gentle in it's ministrations, cupping her breast, softly fondling as his fingers flexed and squeezed.

Lenneth arched and quivered against him, her lips parting to let out breathy little whimpers. The sound was music to Lezard's ear, the perfect accompaniment to his fingers dancing across her skin. They pushed at the shredded remains of her bodice, nudging it down, revealing more of her to his eyes. He abandoned her breasts for one brief moment to swirl his tongue down her waist, licking round her naval than back up again.

Lenneth twisted, trying to get away, and his hand was on her side, holding her steady and still. Reason was all but lost to Lezard, thoughts of her body filling his mind, desire riding him much like he wanted to ride her. Greedily his mouth claimed a nipple, lips closing around it as he sucked, intending to drag her down with him into an abyss of raw desire.

Some coherent thoughts found their way into his mind, trying to push through the cloud of lust that permeated his every fiber. Lezard tried to ignore them, content to concentrate on the feel of her in his mouth, the texture and the hardness of her nipple a contrast to the silky smooth softness of her chest. But the thoughts persisted, nagging doubts that tried to ruin his enjoyment of the Valkyrie.

_She doesn't want this._ The voice whispered in his mind. _She doesn't want you._ He thought that a harsh thing to say, what with Lenneth's body writhing underneath him, cries of arousal mixing in with the disgust she felt at his actions. But another thought was coming to him, merciless in the truth it spoke. _The body and the heart are two seperate things. Take one and lose the other..._

Nonsense! And yet...his mouth turned hesitant, his hands loosening their grip on her. His mind had one last bit of knowledge to impart on him. _She never said yes. _The reminder caused his eyes to fly open in shock, Lezard jerking his head upright to gaze at Lenneth in horror. "What have I done?" He whispered, seeing the terrified way she looked at him, the reddening of her cheeks, and the wet sheen of her eyes. Lezard felt ashamed, his own face turning crimson at his lack of control. His hand was slow to free her, sliding down her arm, one last lingering touch before pulling away.

Lezard lowered his eyes in shame, another wave of guilt assaulting him as he saw the tattered remains of her bodice, shredded perfectly down the middle. Lenneth was still under him, except for the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in deep lungfuls of air. Lezard closed his eyes against the sight, feeling the stirrings of temptation in his loins, bowing his head as though in prayer to her. He nearly jumped out of his skin with fright when he felt her hands on his face, gentle and caressing.

Wonder was in his amethyst eyes, as he lifted his head to look up at Lenneth, feeling her fingers stroke down to his chin, firm in their grip as she forced him to meet her eyes. For one brief second he saw relief in the blue of her orbs, and Lezard let out a shaky sigh. _It was going to be okay._ He thought, the instance before her eyes hardened. Her right hand was pulling away, her left still gripping his chin. He realized what was coming, and he welcomed it, allowing Lenneth to haul back her arm and strike him, a resounding slap that left him seeing stars. All the force she could muster was in that blow, his cheek stung where her hand had connected, Lezard not begrudging her the attack. He had earned the right for far worse abuse than that.

Lenneth dropped her hands to her chest, fingers grasping at the bodice. There wasn't even enough material to pull together and cover her nudity, the Valkyrie having to settle for crossing her arms over her breasts. From underneath him she glared, and Lezard slowly backed off her, allowing her to rise up. Her hair fell forward, a silver blue cloak that settled it's weight over her front. He realized he could offer her a far better option, and his hands went to the buttons of his jacket.

Lenneth raised cautious eyes towards him as he undressed, seeing him shrugging his arms free of the sleeves. He settled the green jacket on her shoulders, and she clutched at it gratefully. Other than that, she made no move to leave, and Lezard realized at last she was waiting for him to step away. _She doesn't trust me._ He thought crestfallen as he slowly backed away from the table. It wasn't until he was on the far side of the room that she moved, slowly sliding her feet down to the floor. She didn't even spare him one glance, breaking into a run the moment she reached the door.

She wasn't there to see Lezard slump against the wall, sliding weakly down to his knees. Nor see the way his hands went to his face, ruffling his hair as he grasped at the sides of his head. And she especially did not see the way he cringed as the echo of her sobs reached back into the room.


	8. Homunculus

In this series, I tend to jump around the sequence of events. Though this is the latest in the line of drabbles, it actually happens before all the others. Most likely meant to be number one in the sequence of events...unless I decide to do one before this one takes place.

----Michelle

Darkness was all around, it's inky black stain crowding in on her, making her afraid. There was a wrongness to it, an unnatural edge to this dark void, something alien and unknown to the Goddess. What was it...she cast about for a memory, knowing the answers she sought lie not in her experience as a God, but in the mundane, every day lives of the humans. Sleep! That's what this was...and it was wrong. She didn't remember falling asleep, she couldn't! She had no need for such respite, and yet...something had forced her into this state.

It was sleep, and yet it was not...she was bordering on consciousness, becoming aware of other things, of other sensations. Faintly she could hear a voice talking to her, but it was sluggish, her ears unable to make out the words. Something---no someone, was touching her. Hands were on her body, gentle and caressing. She found the touch invasive, anger flaring at this handling of her flesh.

Lenneth found herself being lifted up, cradled against a chest. She felt the strength in the arms that held her, was aware of the broad chest she lay against. She felt her panic build, realizing it was a man who touched her. How dare he! Did he not know who she was...what she was?! Lenneth must have made some sound of protest, for she felt as well as heard him whisper in her ear, a soothing hush meant to calm her. Her body wanted to believe in the lie of comfort the voice offered, content to lay limp and relaxed in his embrace. But her mind refused to accept this, even as his hands moved along her body, brief touches that left her skin burning wherever he caressed

_I have to wake up!_ She thought desperately, fighting with herself. She was so tired, she had to fight tooth and nail to the surface of the murky waters of sleep. She was nearly going under, falling back into slumber, when a hand rested on her thigh. Outrage flared, and she struggled awake, Lenneth breaking free of Nott's grip.

Bright light assaulted her eyes, causing her to blink her eyelids rapidly. Her eyes hurt, and everything seemed blurry, as though her eyes were not used to seeing. That was not the only discomfort she became aware of...her lungs felt close to bursting, and she was shocked to realize she must force herself to take small breaths, to actually breathe in oxygen. _What's wrong with me?!_ Her ears listened to her gasping for air, and she came close to fainting. Only her iron clad will kept her awake, not ready to give up the hard won prize of consciousness.

"Easy now..." The voice was less muffled, clearer now. "Let it come naturally to you..." A hand touched her neck, fingers stroking the hollow of her throat. "Don't think about it, just do it..." Advice she would do well to follow, even as she recoiled from the hated touch. The hand on her thigh pressed down, trying to keep her still. Lenneth continued to jerk away...or rather, she made the attempt. Her body just didn't seem to want to respond to her thoughts!

"Lenneth Valkyrie..." He knew her name?! She turned her eyes in the direction of his face, and gave a start of recognition. She knew this man! Chocolate brown hair, the bangs long and falling into his eyes, gold plated spectacles that covered purple eyes that glinted with dark intentions. Worse of all was his mouth, his lips smiling at her in a most predatory fashion.

_Defiler of Souls!_ She tried to hiss out, even as she was scrambling out of his arms, panic and distaste firing up nerves and synapses. _Hated necromancer!_ Her arms were lashing out, smacking into him, causing him to drop his hold on her. She rolled to the left, feeling a down soft mattress under her body. Her stomach turned at the thought of being alone in a bedroom with the wizard, and she continued her flight, coming to the edge of the bed. Her feet touched the floor, even as Lezard was coming around from the other side, rushing towards her. Lenneth tried to let out a startled cry as her legs refused to support her, but nothing came out. Oh Odin, why couldn't she speak?!

Down she went, even as he reached her, his arms encircling her waist, keeping her from slamming into the cold floor. He lifted her up high, legs dangling, and she grabbed at his shoulders for support. She wrinkled up her nose in distaste, finding his face too close to hers. _NO!_ It came out a low whine, and she felt herself falling back onto the bed, head cushioned on a pillow. The necromancer came with her, pressing his body down on top of her's to stop her thrashing about. She fought like a wild woman, fighting tooth and nail against him, even as her movements were slow, lethargic, and weak as a kitten.

The necromancer settled his weight on her legs, hands grabbing hold of her wrists, pinning them down over her head. Still she fought, trying to raise her body up off the bed, front brushing against his chest. That was a mistake, it set him off, letting out a delighted laugh, wild and full of desire. Lenneth continued to rally insults at him in her mind, unable to find her tongue, unable to voice out loud her distaste for him.

_What have you done to me?!_ She demanded with her eyes. He seemed to understand her unspoken question. Or perhaps he was just good at guessing where her thoughts must lie. Either way he was eager, proud to boast of what he had done. He spun a tale of perfecting his spell, of finally stumbling upon the key ingredient that had so eluded him in the past. Lenneth listened with horrified fascination as he revealed to her that she was Goddess no more, trapped in a body crafted to his desires. She fell still, shocked, and he cautiously released his hold on her.

Now she understood. This body wasn't hers, wasn't used to being alive...her spirit alone was animating it, his spells slow to take effect on aligning her thoughts to her nervous system. Her body was tingling, coming alive, and she shakily raised a hand before her face, staring at it. _Presumptious blasphemer!_ She thought, gazing on her flawless skin. She turned her hand this way and that, trying to spot the differences it held.

"I crafted it to match your body." Lezard was saying, sitting back on his knees. His hand came up to his face, finger sliding his glasses back up his nose. It was a nervous gesture, and she realized he was waiting for her to show some sign of approval. "Ah..." She was desperately trying to work her throat, feeling a scream building up. It wanted out, and she thought her lungs would burst if she did not grant it release. "Speak my darling...speak..." commanded the wizard eagerly.

Despairing, she let her mouth fall open, and one loud wail erupted from her, all her heartbreak and anguish captured perfectly in that cry.


	9. Forgiveness

Near blinding, throbbing pain was what awaited him upon awakening. Lezard let out a small moan as he struggled to open his eyes, wincing from the pounding his head was doing. He could feel the pain, spiking over his eyes, trailing down to his cheek, making him wonder if he had been grinding his teeth in his sleep again. His jaw ached, and the pain trickled down his neck into his shoulder, sending the muscles into spasms there.

_I really did it this time._ He thought with a weak chuckle, his head crying out against the sound. He dimly looked around, finding himself not snuggled up in his comfortable bed, but sprawled out on the cold stone of his library floor. He struggled to sit up, and his body protested the movement, a wave of nausea passing over him. A hand clamped over his mouth, desperate to keep down the bile he felt rising inside him, even as he berated himself for drinking himself into this pitiful state.

Drinking...he had been drinking...he could see the proof of it next to him. A half empty crystal container, uncorked with some of it's amber contents spilled out onto the floor. Not nearly enough had been imbibed to explain away the intense pain his head was feeling. His brow furrowed as Lezard tried to remember. Dimly, dimly a vague memory filtered into his mind...of him bashing his head against the wall, over and over, screaming out a name...her name, as he raged against something. More intense concentration, Lezard trying to shove down the pain, trying to think. What had driven him to that point, what had he tried to use drink to forget?

The combination of drink and head bashing had worked almost too well, he couldn't remember...didn't want to he realized. That was a clue in of itself. What could be so bad that it made him want to forget? His eyes cast about the room for some clue, anything to bring back the memories. Lezard became aware of the mess on the floor, of scattered books and papers littering the ground near his desk. An inkwell lay knocked over on it's side, hanging precariously close to the desk's edge, it's contents emptied out onto the floor below.

Leaning against the wall for support, Lezard slowly eased himself up, fighting back dizziness as he stood. He took stumbling steps towards the desk, looking at how it had nearly been wiped clean of it's contents. He frowned, seeing bits of shredded cloth on it's wood surface, the material feeling like satin under his fingertips. A lone strand of hair, immeasurable long, and glinting platinum lay curled up in the center of the desk. He touched it, realizing with a flash that Lenneth had been here. Lenneth! It was as if the recalling of her name, caused all the memories to come flooding back, Lezard letting out a pained cry as he realized what he had done, what he had almost done to her.

What he would have written off as a drink induced dream was only all too real. Her body under his, thrashing about, trying to get away. He recalled how her skin had looked illuminated in the torch light, how the light had played on her paleness, giving her homunculus body an ethereal quality to it. His hands burned as they recalled how her skin had felt, how soft and supple her breasts were, ready and waiting to be molded by his touch. His tongue came out, licking across dry chapped lips as he recalled how she had tasted. His senses were flooded with the memory of her, touch, taste, scent and sound, the memory of how she had looked burnt into his eyes.

Even as he closed them, he could still see her, how tempting she had looked, how irresistible her body had seemed. He was ashamed to admit he still vividly recalled the perverse thrill he had gotten from handling her against her will, relief that it hadn't gone any farther warring with the disappointment that he had had to stop. Guilt flashed at that, and he cursed himself, ready to condemn himself for having wanted to continue on despite her distress.

_Lenneth._ He sighed heavily, slumping forward to lay a top the desk. He placed his cheek there, rubbing it against the wood, imagining he could still feel her presence embedded on the grain. He stared at the strand of hair that lay just to the front of his nose, and his hand reached up to touch it. Carefully tracing his fingertip along it's length, a slight shudder wracking his body from touching something that belong to her.

Lezard wasn't sure how long he laid there, the windowless room offering him no hint of the sun's position in the sky. He continued to stare at the strand of her hair, berating himself in his mind for his boorish behavior. He had acted no better than one of those barbarians he looked down upon, thinking not with his mind, bit with his base lusts, and he was ashamed at how easily he had lost control of all reason upon seeing her topless. Had those precious stolen moments of bliss been worth it? Yes...no...maybe...he just didn't know!

Pressing his palms flat against the surface, he pushed himself up off the desk. He gave one last look around the room, intending to clean up the mess later, when his head didn't hurt so badly. Still thinking on the previous evening's debacle, Lezard headed off to bed. But somehow, perhaps unsurprisingly he ended up outside of her room, the details of his travel a complete blur to him.

He cautiously knocked, waiting for an answer that did not come. His hand hovered over the doorknob, Lezard hesitant and unsure. He found he had to gather his courage, steel his nerves to face her. "I'm coming in." He called out in warning to her, pushing the door inwards. The sound of porcelain shattering greeted his ears, splashes of water leaping up to soak his shirt. Lezard blinked, sparing a glance at the mess on the floor, seeing the shattered vase, it's colorful flowers laying scattered on the ground, remnants of water pooling at his feet. "I take it you didn't like the flowers." He murmured ruefully.

Lenneth made a small noise in the back of her throat, a scoffing sound as she lowered her arm, glaring at him. Her blue eyes blazed bright with anger and mistrust, and her hair spread about her wild and untamed, reminding him very much of her spirit.

Lezard sighed, stepping carefully around the remains of the vase, taking care not to trample the flowers. He reached out with one hand, easing shut the door behind him, but was careful to keep his eyes on the Valkyrie should she take to throwing anything else at him. He was all too aware of the things within her reach, of the light but sharp edge statues, of the water pitcher on her night stand, the multitude of flower vases. The Valkyrie could have a field day tossing things at him, and he questioned himself as a fool for decorating her room with an arsenal that was beautiful to look at, but could be deadly if wielded by the right hands.

He stepped towards her, keenly aware of her movements, seeing how she backed away from him, her body language stiff and cautious. Lezard sighed, coming to a stop in the center of the room, just staring at her. She gazed back at him, and the silence stretched on, neither one wanting to be the first to speak. But then...it was typical behavior for her, the Valkyrie's tongue had been much stilled since her transformation into a human. He sighed, supposing she'd be even less inclined to speak to him now after what had transpired between them.

Lenneth was shifting, growing increasingly uncomfortable with his stare, bringing sleeve covered arms up over her chest. She rubbed at her arms, trying to stifle back a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. She was lovely even in her discomfort, clad in a long white nightgown that trailed down over her bare feet. It was one of the more modest outfits he had picked out for her, loose instead of form fitting, with a higher cut neckline than that of the generous dip of most of her dresses.

"Forgive me for staring..." Lezard said quietly, breaking the silence. Lenneth merely looked at him in disdain. He bit his tongue, fighting the urge to proclaim her lovely, knowing she would not want to hear such words right at this moment. "No..." He shook his head, and found himself moving forward. She let out a gasp at his sudden movement, and all but flew to the nearby wall, back bumping against the stones.

Lezard paused again, just looking at her, seeing the rise and fall of her chest as she took in deep breathes of air. He wondered how fast her heart beat at his approach, and he cursed himself again for inspiring fear to rise in on her. "I meant to say...forgive me for last night...My...behavior was atrocious." The stumbling words tumbled out, gruff and low. "I...didn't mean for that to happen, and I'm sorry."

Lenneth just stared at him, seemingly unmoved by his apology. He moved nearer, and she all but scrunched herself up into the wall, extreme mistrust radiating off of her. Almost without thinking he found himself before her, hands slamming into the wall on either side of her body. "Lenneth...you must know...you have to understand! How truly sorry I am for what I did..." But was he really? Standing here now before her, seeing her quiver, scenting her nervousness, it reminded him much of last night and the excitement he had felt when he had dominated her.

"I am a weak excuse for a man." He at last whispered, bowing his head against her's, forehead brushing against her bangs. He let out a cry when her lips parted, a single sentence of agreement. "Yes...you are."

He was sinking, down, down to the floor he went, knees thumping heavily into the carpet. Lenneth flinched as his hands touched her hips, the necromancer unable to resist a teasing touch, a caress across her covered skin. He was then wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close, burying his head against her stomach. He was surprised to find tears dripping down his face, a soft wail emerging from his lips as he begged, practically demanded forgiveness and absolution from his Goddess.

"Forgive me...forgive me..." He whispered over and over again. "I would never harm you on purpose...I love you, I need you. I worship and adore you." It became his mantra, his shield against her anger. Over and over, the same words, with little to no variation to them.

Her hands moved, and he shut his eyes against the sight of them, prepared himself for the coming blow. But it was not with force she touched him, but a gentle soft touch, smoothing back his hair. Lezard's eyes flew open, and he titled his head upwards to gaze into Lenneth's eyes. Her head was bent downwards, her blue eyes looking as lost and confused as his must surely be. She continued with her gentle touches, and he sighed, grateful for them. When at last she spoke, it lifted up his spirits, his headache seeming to flee from his body.

"I know..." Was all she said. It was, he realized with a shaky sigh, enough.


	10. Untitled 4

The one that doesn't seem to go anywhere...Just a fluffy moment between these two...nothing more, nothing less.

----Michelle

It was a gilded cage she found herself in, a stone prison made up to look like a lavishly furnished bedroom. Exquisitely decorated with furniture hand carved from pine and oak wood, it had all the comforts of home and then some. A gigantic four poster bed dominated one corner of the room, gauzy transparent curtains hanging down to give the illusion of privacy. It's mattress was soft, soft enough that she sunk down into it, body cushioned as though she lay wrapped up in clouds.

The sheets always bore the slightest hint of chill, dark blue silk that was slow to warm up in the cold room. Lenneth herself didn't suffer from the cold, she had thick comforters to pull up over her body, and her pillows were stuffed with the softest of down, pure heaven against her neck.

It wasn't only the bed that was made to be comfortable. Quite a lot of care had been taken with the rest of the room's furniture. A love seat was situated against one wall, it's cushions plump and round on it's silver frame. A mirrored vanity was wedged in the corner directly opposite the bed, painted white with blue highlights, the letter L carved in cursive on the drawers.

Atop it's surface lay a multitude of items, a small hand mirror, and a silver backed brush that also had the letter L imprinted on it's backside. An array of make up and expansive perfumes lay scattered and untouched, Lenneth needing no such embellishments to her natural beauty. Silk ribbons and cotton ties for her hair, a dozen if not more gathered in one corner of the table top, along with barrettes and glittering jewels. She paid them little mind, only bothering with the ties for when she wove her hair into it's familiar braid. She knew her captor liked her to wear her hair loose and free, and she purposefully pulled back her hair in it's strict braid.

Gorgeous tapestries decorated the walls, being sewn on thick velvet, serving to both appease the eyes, and warm the stones of the room. It wasn't very effective at keeping out the cold, Lenneth could still feel the wind seeping through the cracks but she welcomed that taste of freedom. The tapestries showed her many scenes, forests where mythical creatures lurked and roamed, a waterfall where nymphs frolicked in the pool side, even an artist's rendition of Asgard, with it's imagined halls of Valhalla. It didn't come close to the actual splendor of the shining realm, but still it left her homesick to look upon it.

In the center of the room sat a small wicker table room enough for two people to dine upon it's surface. A meal lay untouched, the Valkyrie disinterested in it's offered nourishment. She let out a sigh, and turned, catching sight of her reflection in the floor length mirror near her closet. A flash of anger, white and hot spiked up her body, displeasure to see herself clad in one of the necromancer's gowns. She had little choice in the matter, it was either wear what he provided or go naked. And as much as she wanted to shun his gifts, she wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing her bare body.

She stepped closer to the mirror, eyeing herself critically. It was nothing like anything she had ever worn up in Valhalla, the pale lavender clinging to her curves, leaving little to the imagination. It was off the shoulder, lace sleeves that was just the briefest of material, and the bodice was cut down to low, revealing more than a hint of her breasts. Dark purple lace wound it's way just under her chest, looping around to the back in a large bow that was half obscured by her hair. That same dark purple lined the hem of her skirt, the gown turning translucent near the bottom where it flowed over her feet. Matching slippers on her feet, with tiny bows on top.

Lenneth scowled at her reflection, her hands curling into fists. _Presumptious bastard! _She thought, feeling very much like a doll put on display for him alone. It didn't impress her that nothing but the finest touched her skin, silks and satins, velvet and lace, all expensive and finely made. The necromancer spoiled her, as though showering her with gifts would make her fall in love with him.

_Love? Bah!_ She scoffed inwardly, turning away from her reflection. As if she could ever come to care for a defiler of souls, no matter how charming he tried to appear to be. It was as though thinking of him summoned the man to her, a knock sounding at her door. Lenneth stifled a sigh, not bothering to answer, knowing Lezard would push his way in regardless of what she had to say. He was persistent in that manner, refusing to take no for an answer, insisting on spending time with her.

They spent most of it talking...rather he talked, she listened. Some sadistic part of her thrilled at watching him stumble for words, at refusing to engage him in conversation. He tried to ask her questions about Asgard, of her likes and dislikes, even tried to talk to her about battles she had been rumored to take part in. None would get her to answer, she sitting silent and staring. He soon ran out of topics to discuss, and lately had taken to reading to her. His books ran the gamut from boring, scientific studies, of magic and the forbidden arts, which Lezard seemed to enjoy the most, to story books of love and romance, even fairytales. Much as she hated to admit it, Lenneth found herself enjoying listening to him speak, his low voice soothing and pleasant to her ears. She almost found herself looking forward to these readings, where she could lose herself in his voice, and enjoy the stories.

"I brought you some things." Lezard said as he eased open the door. She looked at him, seeing his cape draped over his arm, attempting to hide what he carried. She tried to keep the flicker of interest she felt off her face, but she feared he spied it. A smile was on his face as he drew near to the table, it faltering for a second when he saw that she had not touched her breakfast.

Giving a slight shake of his head, brown locks falling into his eyes, he recovered his composure. "Some sweets for my sweet..." Lezard said teasingly, showing her a heart shaped box, with a glittering gold bow in it's center. "Chocolates..." He clarified, setting it down on a nearby table. Next he held up a small jar, purple cursive on the front proclaiming it the scent of allure. "Perfume..." He placed the bottle on top of the chocolates, wondering if she'd be impressed to know it cost him 750 oth for one ounce.

"And of course...I ordered you some new dresses. The finest silk imported straight from Hai Lan." said Lezard. "They should be arriving here by mid week." He reached into his pocket, searching for something. "I would be...delighted if you chose to model them for me." His fingers grazed against cool metal, and he slowly removed his hand, fingers curled over the tiny item. "I thought of you when I saw this..." He held out his hand, fingers opening to display a silver ring, with a sapphire the size of his thumb nail placed in it's center.

She could tell her silence frustrated him, even as he stepped nearer to her, reaching out for her hand. She reluctantly allowed him the touch, feeling him slide the ring onto her finger. "It looks lovely on you. But then..." His eyes glinted in pleasure, as he looked over her body and she fought back the disgust she felt at seeing that look of desire on his face. "There is precious little that wouldn't look good on you."

"Spare me your false compliments." She watched as his eyes lit up, a pleased smile crossing his face at the sound of her voice. Lenneth bit back a sigh of exasperation, already regretting having graced him with her speech. He was...too eager for her, so desperate and needy for acknowledgment from her, even if her words were negative and disinterested. He ate up the sound of her voice, greedy to hear his cage quarry sing.

"Nothing in regards to my interest in you is false, my dear lady Valkyrie." He purred, giving her fingers a squeeze. "There's simply not enough words in Migard alone for me to speak of my adoration for you." Though he certainly tried them all out, she mused to herself.

He wasn't letting go of her hand, Lezard giving a tug, intent on guiding her to the love seat. She allowed him to move her where he wanted, slowly sinking down onto the cushions, tucking her legs underneath her. He reached up to run his fingers over the skin of her cheek, before he was pulling away, searching for the book he had left behind the night before.

He found it, and reclaimed it, coming to sit next to her on the love seat. He pushed in close, body brushing against hers, and she bit her tongue to stifle her protests. He insisted on the close contact, and she found it too tiresome and troublesome to protest the side of her body touching his. She settled back with a sigh, taking hold of an embroidered pillow, fingers playing with the tassel as he opened the book. Skirting to the part where they had last let off, he began reading, and her eyelids lowered, Lenneth finding the necromancer's voice almost hypnotic as he read.

Time seemed to slow, everything blurring away to just him and her, his voice reading out a tale of a princess captured by a dragon. Her eyelids started drooping, and Lenneth soon found herself half asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. She was vaguely aware of him putting down the book, hand reaching up to stroke the top of her head. She sighed at the touch, in sleep she could allow herself to be happy, to revel in his caress, her body longing for human contact, even one as loathsome as his. Much as Lenneth tried to deny it, she needed that contact, missed her friends and einherjar, missed having someone to talk to. People, even Gods, were creatures not meant to live alone.

She was letting go of the pillow, hearing it let out a soft thump against the carpet, her hand reaching to wrap around Lezard's waist. She snuggled closer, needing his warmth and his presence, content to pretend he was someone else, someone who had not taken her away from everything she had ever known. It was a nice illusion, and she sank down deeper into dreams against his body. She could hear his heart beat against her ear, a soft pounding that seem to speed up at the touch of her. His hand smoothed down the back of her head, tracing down the length of her hair, finding the ties. He snapped it easily enough, allowing her hair to unwind, and she could feel Lezard lifting it up, letting it run through his fingers as though it was water flowing free.

His touch became everything, soft, soothing, seeming to move in time with the beat of his heart. It lulled her into sleep, letting Lenneth feel safe, comforted. She slept, and all too soon, Lezard slept with her, hand clenched loosely around her waist. His head eased backwards, his mouth opening to let out a light snore, as Lenneth's fingers curled into his shirt, clinging to him. It was only in sleep that she forgot herself, and allowed a tiny smile to cross her lips.

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Full Moon Bunny, thank you for the wonderful review! Really put a smile on my face.

---Michelle


	11. Sleepless

He couldn't sleep, Lezard finding himself tossing and turning in bed, trying to get comfortable. He rejected position after position, always shifting, always turning, fighting against the blankets that twisted around his legs. And still he kept moving, hoping that he would find the right spot, the key position that would allow him to relax and slip into blissful slumber.

It never came, Lezard listening to the sounds of the night, hearing his bed creak, and the ticking of his clock as it counted out the minutes to the late hour. He sighed, and sat up, rubbing at his face, giving in to the need to yawn. His whole body felt heavy, a great weight was dragging him down, leaving him in a foul mood that kept him from wanting to do anything. If it wasn't for his exhausted state, he'd be in his lab right now, working his magic, dealing with his experiments. But in this state of mind, he was prone to accidents, he might very well blow the tower, or worse yet himself up, should he try.

He couldn't even read, Lezard finding his eyes simply refused to focus in on the words, forcing him to reread the same sentence over and over again, with little hope of

taking in it's meaning. Once again the man was sighing, frustration at the core of that sound. It seemed another night that sleep would be denied to him, and he could only hope that come the morning, this strangle hold on his body would be broken.

He was often prone to these sleepless nights, insomnia nothing new to Lezard. Indeed it was an old familiar foe, one that returned again and again to toy with him. Sometimes he welcomed it, finding he was filled with a rush of excitable energy that allowed him to do his best work. But more often than not, it was something to be hated, leaving him in this pitiful state.

Often when he couldn't sleep, Lezard found himself wandering the halls of his tower, endless pacing that took him all over his home. But that was before SHE had arrived, before she took up her forced residence inside his tower. It was no wonder his walks led him to her room, Lezard hesitating a moment outside her door. He knew he would be unwanted by her, and yet he always found himself pushing open the door, slipping inside the room.

Not surprisingly, the Valkyrie was asleep, laying on her side with her platinum colored hair swept out behind her. Her hand rested on her pillow, fingers curled in the plush material, and her lips were parted slightly as she breathed. He stood next to the bed, staring down at her, just taking in the sight of her sleeping. He couldn't envy her ability to sleep, not when he knew her dreams were often disturbing, rousing her from them with heart wrenching screams.

His dreams were different, weird things he could only remember fragments of, but they often were the key to letting him know he had any sleep at all. Lezard hated that his body was so dependent on something he seemed to have no control over, a feeling of hopelessness swelled up in him. But looking at the Valkyrie chased away his despair, and he found himself bending over her, fingers touching her face. He couldn't help but smile as she sighed, and leaned into his touch, seeming to welcome it for once. His finger tips traced over her mouth, marveling at the softness of her lips, feeling her warm breath on his skin.

He pulled back, Lezard reaching for the blanket, pealing it down past her legs. He held it up as he climbed in next to her, once settled moving it so that it covered the both of them. He lay on his side, facing her, and he spread an arm across her waist, snuggling closer to her slender body. His face joined hers on the pillow, but he did not sleep, just staring at her beauty.

Watching her eyelids tremble as she dreamed, feeling her breath on him as she exhaled, it was a sweetness that calmed and soothed him. There was worse ways to spend an insomnia ridden night, than holding on to the one he loved.

I have insomnia so I gave Lezard insomnia. ;-p

--Michelle

Riviera Lynria, the series is out of order. I'm posting them as I write them, and jumping around as the whim strikes me. Just little glimpses of their time together. Maybe soemday when it is completed I will try to put them in their proper order. Of course...that would mean figuring out when what happened when! XD

Amanthya, thank you! :) I will try. It's something to work on when I am bored, or have the ideas. There's no actual plot here, just a look at their time together, like us being voyeurs. I often think I gave Lezard too easy a time in COF, and I wonder if this was born out of my desire to see Lenneth be a troublesome captive!


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